Let Us Grasp The Impossible
by xClutteredxChaosx
Summary: She seemed to be flashing her potion's teacher. Maybe that was the thing that triggered everything. HermionexSnape with snippets of HermionexDraco. Will go up to M.
1. First Weeks Are Always The Worst

Let Us Grasp The Impossible

Chapter One

Hermione Granger seemed to be flashing her potions teacher.

It wasn't intentional, of course, but when professor Snape had glanced up from the essay he was marking, he hadn't been expecting to see the little lacy pink patch of Hermione Granger's panties that were currently on show.

Now, there were a number of different ways that he could have handled the situation. He could have averted his eyes and pretended that he had not seen anything. He tried that-it didn't work.

Now, he wasn't the type to look at his students in such a perverted way, but Hermione Granger had grown into a young woman, and there were certain things that straight men just couldn't push to the back of their minds.

His eyes found the panties again.

And the other way, well…

"Miss Granger, your skirt length is inappropriate,"

Hermione flushed as the voice of her potions teacher cut through the already silent classroom and drifted to her ears. She stumbled off her stool and hastily pulled down the skirt which had somehow managed to ride halfway up her leg, what made things even worse was that every eye was now on her. She glared ferociously at the manic grin on Ron's face as she sat down and happily nudged him as hard as she could in the ribs.

"I love that skirt-Ow," hissed Ron. He grumbled something and rubbed his side, ducking his head to grumpily re-chop his already too fine unicorn horn.

Hermione glanced at Ron's hands.

No, she wouldn't tell him. It would serve him right, hopefully.

Ten minutes later.

"Weasley I have told you precisely four times this lesson…"

The furious voice of Professor Snape was sending a redder Ron ever redder.

"Do not," he snapped lividly. "_Chop-the-root-too-fine_," he glared at the lump of smoking goo splayed over Ron's desk and his nostrils flared sharply. "_One hundred_ points from Gryfindor,"

There was a muted gasp from certain members in the room.

"You will come to this classroom every lunch until you clean that catastrophic mess from my desk,"

He glanced down once more at the desk with a look of absolute disgust over his face and turned his head sideways 90 degrees.

"Miss Granger. You're potion is too thick,"

His cloak flapped as he walked back to the front of the classroom.

Hermione's jaw had clenched shut so hard that she could feel her teeth grinding together. With a whispered curse (this earned a surprised eyebrow raise from Ron) she hastily cleared away her equipment and shoved the cork into the vial holding her potion with so much force that it almost popped back out again.

On her way out, she angrily dropped the vial onto the assigned place on Snape's desk and stormed out of the classroom.

"Someone's hormonal," muttered Harry as he and Ron wearily followed her.

--

Hermione hadn't had a good first week back.

On the first day, Draco Malfoy had informed her (with poorly disguised hatred) that he and her would both be patrolling the corridors _together_ every Tuesday and Thursday night from 9pm to 12pm. This was unwelcomed, bad news and seeing as she never patrolled the corridors in her fifth year, a shock. (How would she get enough sleep?!) Ron lazily informed her that they would. And then told her he would be patrolling with Pansy Parkinson. Almost as bad, but not quite.

The first night back, when she was sleepily full from the earlier feast and relaxing peacefully in front of the fire, a group of screaming third year girls awoke her from her relaxed thoughts and yelled in horror about how a boy had somehow managed to get into their dorm. After some intense questions from her (she almost started screaming at him herself) he eventually admitted that he had used a charm to stop the stairs from turning into a slide, and then later admitted something even worse -that he was looking for their underwear.

She grumbled too him and the next day reported this to Professor McGonagall, who in turn grumbled about teenage boys and gave him detention. (For two months).

On top of these two unfortunate events (she didn't start patrolling the corridors until the second week, so was currently saved from _that_ ordeal) Professor Snape had been unusually cruel and pernickety towards her this year. She told herself it was because deep, deep down, the man wanted her to do well, as this was her N.E.W.T.S year. But this really didn't seem right. Deep down _she_ knew that he just hated her, and that was all their was to it.

And now, it was Sunday night. An end to the first week, a week that she was grateful to be back in, yet was glad was over. And with everyone around her asleep, all that could be heard was the soft scratching of her quill against her parchment. She was currently pursuing her potions homework, she had a few more days to complete it, but as always she was determined to earn at least a spark of praise from the man who constantly criticized everything that she did. Maybe, just maybe this time she would impress him, somehow. It was a feat that seemed almost impossible.

But _nothing_ was impossible. And she was going to do it. No matter what it took.

* * *

Please review to tell me what you think :)


	2. All In The Name Of Being Discreet

Note: This fic doesn't fit in with the original story exactly (Duh. Did Hermione and Snape ever get it on? No.) But I am including certain aspects of the main story, such as the Order and things like that. So thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy it ! :)

* * *

Chapter Two

Snape truly despised every single person that resided under Hogwart's many layered roof. Why he subjected himself to the same torture every single day, he didn't know. All he knew was that he had to put up with dim witted fools and downright stupid _twats_ every day for years on end with little time off. And even with his time off he was still surrounded by them and his only means of escape was either Hogsmeade on weekdays or his much loved office.

Snape didn't like to teach. He didn't take pride in the fact that his students learnt. He just thought that he might as well pass his large knowledge of potions on to other people, while in turn learning more himself. And where else to do this than at a school? Oh, and there was also the small fact that his heart (although somewhat jaded) kept reminding him that he had to 'watch over' the potter kid. He hated this almost more than anything else. He was sixteen for Christ's sake! What was the point? Lilly was dead anyway.

But even so..he just _had_ to.

--

"Man Harry, have you done something to offend Snape recently? I mean he never usually looks _that _bad when he looks at you,"

Hermione listened to Ron and along with Harry, turned her head to the table at the back of the hall. Sure enough, Snape was staring at Harry with a look that could only be described as pure, unadulterated _hate_, he hadn't even bothered to tone it down. The man prolonged this for a few seconds before turning his attention to the plate of food in front of him. His hair caught the light at this movement and it shone for a few seconds, something which Hermione completely ignored. (Mwuahaha.)

"Maybe he marked your essay," She said with a smirk as she turned away. She couldn't help herself and grinned at the glare Harry sent her. He then mumbled something about the fact that he hadn't done it yet..

--

Hermione studied Snape closely as he lowered the parchment onto her desk. He said nothing, and when he looked at her his mouth was nothing more than a thin line. But he didn't say _anything. _And that was _good_.

She glanced down at her parchment and a spark of pure pride stabbed inside of her. He had given her an O.

Hermione suddenly blushed to herself when she realised her thought could perhaps be interpreted in 'another way.'

She frowned and wondered why she was thinking such things. Especially when _Snape_ was partly involved. Maybe it was that time of the month. Or maybe, she had just been deprived. The only person she had ever kissed was Vicktor Krum. And the closest they had come to sex was a quick fumble during the Yule ball.

Oh dear _god_ could she really wait until marriage_?_

She rolled her eyes and concentrated on the ingredients Snape was writing on the blackboard. She'd just have to wait and see. She could act the prude until marriage. Now..where was her willow root?

--

The essays had been dreadful. Apart from Grangers.

Snape was sat in front of the working class, musing to himself, something he usually did only when he was alone. Granger's had been…impeccable, even if he had to force himself to believe it. There was no denying that she was intelligent. Perhaps the most intelligent student in her whole year.

No. That couldn't be. She wasn't a Slytherin, and the more essays she turned into him the more irritated he would get with every smug look she sent him when she glanced down at her mark. Maybe he should tell her that she only just barely scraped the O. That would knock her down a few pegs. He couldn't stand having no other option than to give her good marks, let alone praise her. He didn't even praise his own house. He would never let a praise escape from his lips. It almost scared him how close he had been to thinking highly of Granger once he had read her essay. She was nothing special. She just had one of those minds that could absorb a large amount of sentences stolen from library books. She strived to impress, and that was something none of his students could earn from him. Never.

He glanced once at her, sat between Potter and Weasley. There was …something though, that had been niggling very quietly at the back of his head for quite a while now. No matter how much he wanted to...the Granger girl was completely unreadable. She didn't have the average brain. Her behaviour wasn't predictable. It drove him insane. And he had to admit to himself, he was extremely intrigued by the girl.

But, he needed to stop thinking about his students, they weren't important.

He turned his attention back to the chattering classroom and observed the room as a whole. Malfoy's incredibly blond head caught his eye and he watched him drift over the room. He wasn't picking up ingredients, in fact, to Snape's utmost surprise he stopped besides Granger, and said something to her. It obviously wasn't appreciated, as she scowled furiously at him and destroyed her ragwort trimmings with a shaking slam of her knife. The expression was almost…no, Snape wouldn't permit himself to think it.

…._cute._

Malfoy look pleased with himself, and sauntered back to his table.

"Complete git," Weasley said loudly, too loudly.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Weasley," Snape said out loud to him. That served the idiotic buffoon right. Half of the purple goo was still resting on his desk and he would be coming back that afternoon to clean it up. And hopefully the next too. He ate too much anyway.

He glanced over the Weasley kid smugly and saw that he was scowling, this wasn't nearly as endearing as Granger's. Snape felt his eyes narrow. "A further ten points," he said sharply.

"Aw, fuck, we're in negative numbers!"

"Eighty points, Weasley,"

"WHAT?" Yelled Potter as he swerved into his line of vision.

Snaped raised an eyebrow.

"A further EIGHTY POINTS. My, my, you Gryffindors are going to have to work extra hard this year," Snape said slowly. Haha. He just loved tormenting them, it was something he had grown to adored, shortly after his heart had turned somewhat evil. He smiled privately to himself and dismissed the class. Neville managed to blow up his own potion in the last few seconds while he was walking across the room, so by the time Hermione entered the hall, she wasn't too surprised to see that Gryffindor hourglass read negative five hundred points.

--

Hermione didn't know why she was walking so quickly down the empty corridor. After she had reluctantly met up with Malfoy they had both decided that they would patrol different sides of the castle separately. (A wide decision, she decided). In fact, it only occurred to her that she was going too quickly when she turned the corner and slammed into an unsuspecting person.

A wave of disbelief flooded through her when she realised exactly who it was.

"Miss Granger, what exactly do you think you are doing?"

He looked very dishevelled and had had to grab the wall to keep himself from falling . Hermione suddenly found that she couldn't speak. For those few seconds, as his face morphed into one of light surprise, Professor Snape had look positively handsome, and now, when she stared at his face to try and make herself think she was seeing things, a most disturbing thought engulfed her.

She had not been seeing things. She had just never looked before.

She suddenly gulped in a mouthful of air and squeaked out a very quick apology.

"Sorry, Professor," she said as she grabbed her fallen books from the floor. She really couldn't afford to lose anymore points right now, or the much loved house cup would be lost from their grasp completely. Snape observed her through his cold, (yet surprisingly warm, maybe it was the candlelight) black eyes.

"Miss Granger, just what are you doing at this time?" He asked again.

"I'm patrolling the corridors, Sir," she glanced at her books and quickly told him the reason why she had them. _She hadn't had enough time to take them back to the common room as she lost track of the time in the library and left a few minutes after she had to start patrolling_. (Malfoy hadn't been happy when she was late and mocked the ton of books in her arms, although she didn't tell the professor this). Snape obviously saw the stupidity of her actions and smirked.

Hermione almost asked him what he was doing in this part of the castle in the dead of night, but decided otherwise. Her Professor's night time wanderings were no business to her, no matter how suddenly curious she had become.

She then spoke before he could.

"I need to go meet Malfoy," she said suddenly, a look of disbelief crossed over Snape's face and she wondered if the lie really had been that bad. She then rushed past him and Snape watched until her figure became smaller and smaller and disappeared into the darkness.

As he watched her struggle with her armful of books, as he watched her totter over the cold stone floor, as he watched her very nearly crash into a suit of armour,

He almost smiled.

But he suddenly caught himself, and disappeared into the night.

--

Hermione tossed in her bed and frowned. She wanted to sleep, _needed_ to sleep, but she was worrying about something. The image of her potions teacher's face, shadowed and so handsome in the candle light kept flickering into her mind's eye.

Was Professor Snape handsome? She had never really believed the names Ron and Harry gave him. His hair wasn't greasy, his nose wasn't overly large, he wasn't a vampire.

But, even so, had she subconsciously still thought those things? The names and judgements of the people around her could have blocked the beauty of the man that stood at the front of the potions classroom everyday. Because she had never looked at him before, never thought of him this way. And it surprised her how she had never really _seen_ his face before.

No. She had to stop now. It was wrong. He was her teacher.

But it was just there. So easily reachable and begging to be unlocked by her mind. She wanted to let go of her inhibitions and delve into the darkest temptations her brain dared to think of.

Those large..long fingered hands. As she recalled the times that he had handed back her essays she remembered. Just how…beautifully teasing they were. How manly. Those hands resting firmly on her waist, travelling down to her hips, pulling her with unconcealed lust towards his firm, hard body…

Oh dear. This neededing to stop. Professor _Snape._

And suddenly, with a stab of horror, Hermione asked herself something.

All these times..all the times she had tried to impress him…was that really..because deep down..she had always had a very well hidden -even to herself- …_crush_ on him.

Was she attracted to Professor Snape?

Hermione nervously swallowed and sank further down into her pillow. She'd just have to find out.

--

"…Fleur Delacor was hot,"

"Hey, what about Granger?"

Professor Snape froze. There he was, unwilling listening to the mindless ramblings of his fifth year Ravenclaw Potions class…and suddenly (and he knew perfectly well why) he had become very interested. He had just heard Hermione Granger mentioned in the same light as a veela.

He had always considered the girl attractive..but now it had been confirmed that she most definitely was. The superficial mind of teenage boys always declared just who was and who wasn't. (He remembered that age very well).

But why oh why was he so bothered. Boys found Hermione attractive. That was all.

It was nothing more than knowing that Ginny Weasley had slept with practically every boy in the school, knowledge he really didn't need to know.

But yet…he couldn't steer his mind away from her. Ever since that first potions lesson back, much to the disgust of himself, Snape had remember the little patch of pink on show, directly in his line of vision. He half wished that he hadn't said anything. That way he would be free to look.

But, unfortunately Miss Granger now made sure her skirt was a suitable length before she sat down to save herself from further embarrassment. Not that she knew that he had been staring at her underwear for a good few minutes before he decided to say something.

He suddenly realised what he was doing and pushed the image from his mind. He was marking Potter's essay, and the image had put him in a considerably better mood.

But thinking of a sixteen year old girls underwear, who was your student was a bad thing to do. Very bad. Extremely taboo.

But he knew that something had been unhooked in his mind. The things that usually marked them as students, marked _Hermione_ as a student, were slowly fading.

The image of eleven year old Hermione.

The annoyingly smug raising of her hand in lesson.

But she had matured so beautifully. He could no longer ignore the two young breasts beneath her shirt, or the soft curve of her hips beneath her robes. Even when she raised her hand when no one else did, her eyes twinkled at him when she answered. The slight curve of her full lips. The smugness. The attractiveness. Her amazing brain.

She wanted to impress him. And he suddenly wanted to tell her that she already had.

--

Muggle studies had always been a subject Hermione could allow herself to daydream in, simply because she already knew everything. And even as she tried to concentrate..she found that she couldn't.

She remembered when she first saw professor Snape. He wall tall, dark, and terrifying. He had been given a bad name by every student around her and she feared him greatly. But she still forced herself to answer his questions. And when he set her and her fellow eleven year old classmates hard essays, she would read until she knew everything.

In her second year, she remembered not fearing her potion lessons quite so much. She recalled this was the year that she began to feel frustrated. How he never praised her and never acknowledged her answers. He would mock her, and his words stung. But she refrained from crying.

Third year. She noticed how smooth his voice was. Almost seductive. She would sit there in class listening, and more often than not found herself being lost in the deep tone of his voice that floated throughout the room. And then she would get her ingredients and try to make the best potion she could, because she felt that she just had to.

In her fourth year, that was when Vicktor had taken over most of her life. How infatuated she had been with him. With Vicktor around, Snape was nothing more than her dark haired potions professor. She sailed through those classes, and the end of the year came too quickly.

Fifth. Something stabbed at her memories. Something which she had pushed away, but now strangely welcomed back. She remembered walking across the classroom, and glancing towards his desk. And a strange feeling pooled in her stomach when she realised he had been watching her. Watching her with a foreign expression on his face. And the worst thing, the thing that at that time she didn't know if she liked or not, was that his eyes hadn't been on her face, but on her body. And they had glanced away as soon as she had seen him. But they had still been there, a fact she couldn't forget.

And now, in the present. Hermione sat at her desk. She _wanted_ him to look at her that way.. She was confident in her body now, she knew what reactions in got from both men and boys.

And perhaps…it would invoke some sort of reaction from him, my god she wanted to do that _so badly._

And suddenly, she felt mischievous. Would..teasing her professor be _that bad_?

_Yes Hermione, yes it would._

But if she did it casually…he would never know…and she could discreetly watch his actions..just to see what he did. It would be nothing more than a bit of flirting, it couldn't possibly be more than that..anything else was completely and utterly out of the question.

And he wouldn't _know_ she was flirting with him.

She felt butterflies swarm through her. She had decided, after six long years that her Professor was in fact attractive, and she wanted to see what she could do to him.

It would all be in the name of 'discreetness'.

--

They next day she unbuttoned half of her shirt and entered the potions classroom.

--

* * *

Hermione! (Gasp!) :O

Please review ^^


	3. Things Have Changed

Chapter Three

Things Have Just Changed

He hadn't noticed. Hermione was practically falling over her cauldron as she leaned over it to _get her ingredients._

And he hadn't noticed. He hadn't even looked her way. When she had asked him if her cauldron was made of the correct metal, all he had said was.

"Yes, Miss Granger, why on earth would you need to know?"

And she muttered something about Diagon Alley. His eyes met hers and he then left her to go back to his desk. And all this time her shirt had been open in front of him, and he hadn't even looked! She was getting very frustrated, and desperate times called for desperate measures. She sprang to her feet, walked quickly yet casually over to his desk and took a unicorn root from the trays of spare ingredients in front of him. It was only when she pretended to fall over and launched herself onto the floor that she wondered just when she had become so impulsive. It also hurt quite badly.

"_Stupid girl_," she heard Snape mutter under his breath. She sighed at his disregard to her and pulled herself up. What she was going to gain from doing this, she didn't know, it was just good that the whole class was hidden behind cauldrons, and didn't-. Hermione paused mid-thought. When she had gotten to her knees, she glanced at his face and his face was very much looking. In fact, he was still looking, and the sense of pride that jolted through her was very much the feeling that she had wanted and envisioned. His face had gone rigid and she took this time to notice the sharp angle of his jaw, and the way his eyes had turned darker that usual. It was only after _he_ had looked for a second too long that her professor blinked and cleared his throat.

Hermione looked away and pretended to clean the dust from her skirt. _He didn't know she knew._ When the imaginary dirt had gone, she looked up and bit her lip.

"I..fell when I was-"

"I know that Miss Granger," he said blankly. The expression on his face was one she had never seen before, he almost looked guilty. She slowly got to her feet and thought that this might be the time to sit back down, but he stopped her.

"Miss Granger," he said quietly. She turned around.

"Yes Professor?"

He sighed and looked up towards the ceiling. "Miss Granger," he said yet more quietly with a hint of exasperation. "To save yourself some dignity, I must tell you that your blouse is open,"

Oh.

"_Oh_," Hermione said slowly. She stared at him, and he raised one dark eyebrow.

"_Miss Granger_," he said sternly, and his voice seemed strained.

Reality suddenly hit her. She fumbled with the buttons of her shirt, and suddenly felt very, very exposed, and very, very stupid. This was now awkward for both of them. Once the last button had been secured, she glanced at the floor for her unicorn horn and grabbed it before he could, and then sent a glance towards her cauldron.

"I, um..should do this,"

"Please do,"

She nodded without looking at him and hurried back to her cauldron. Oh dear. So much for feeling powerful. She wanted to run away and collapse onto her bed in despair. Why was she so stupid. Oh, it was so _embarrassing._

She took her jar of pixie dust and inwardly cringed to herself. Her arms were shaking and her brain was going haywire. She just had to calm down. She didn't even know why she felt like this, apart from the fact that she had just made a complete fool of herself, but hopefully Snape would just forget….yes.

She glanced up and him, and she was not prepared for what she saw.

He was looking straight at her with such intensity that she gasped and dropped the vial into her cauldron. His eyes were completely black, almost predatory and were staring directly into hers. They travelled down her face, and rested on her lips. Her stomach fluttered and span so much that she forgot where she was for a second, and then she blinked.

She dropped her eyes too slowly, and only saw the last colours of the rainbow erupting from her potion. She watched in horror as it began gurgling and then exploded. Most of it splattered onto her uniform, and the rest flew all over her desk and fixed itself there like some bizarre kind of paint.

_She had looked up un-expectantly, straight at him and this time he hadn't been able to look away. Her eyes had shined with a small moment's recognition before they widened and she let out a small gasp. The vial in her fingers dropped as if in slow motion, and seconds later he was looking at her covered in various bright colours._

She waited. The whole room had held their breath. She stared at the floor, and bit her lip. His voice was angry, but maybe only she heard that it wasn't as angry as it should have been.

"Miss Granger," a slight pause. "Stay after class," her stomach lurched. "You can clean that mess from my floors,"

The next ten minutes went too quickly. Hermione had only managed to scrape away a small speck of the potion before she heard the scrape of chairs and pattering of feet. She glanced up at the worried faces of Ron and Harry.

"Good luck," Ron murmured.

"We'll save you some food," Harry said. She watched them walk away, and the door slammed. It was silent. Hermione risked a glance at him and she was startled to see that he wasn't where she had thought he had been, and held back a gasp of surprise when she saw his hands splayed over her desk and a frown on his face.

"Professor, I didn't see you," she said as she tried not to stammer. "I'll clean this up, uhh-"

"Miss Granger,"

She cringed and tried to steady her breathing. She felt so naked under his gaze.

_There she was, babbling away like some nervous wreck, and she couldn't meet him in the eye. She was covered in the remains of her potion, her robes caked in bright shades of green and blue. The ringlets of her hair were matted together by orange powder, and her cheeks were pinkened by red and pink ash. He felt all sense of his anger (barely there in the first place) go away. How could he be angry when she looked like this? Not to mention she had only dropped her vial when she realised he had been looking at her, something which he shouldn't have done. Never. He sighed._

"Miss Granger, I will use a cleansing charm to get rid of this," he gestured towards her. "You should go back to your dormitory to get changed," _as I would have to get your clothes from your body should I wish to clean them myself. _ He thought. Hermione nodded and bowed her head. Yet she didn't move.

Hermione braced herself. It was now or never, and if she didn't ask him now she would be driving herself insane later.

"Professor, is this because, of umm.." she saw his eyebrow raise. "Well…you're not that angry.. and you were umm..looking at me and well, I just wondered if that was why you're not…umm.._mad_..I.." she looked up and his face had gone blank, perhaps with shock, or fear of have being found. How could she know? She then looked down at herself with a displeased sigh and shook her head. "Never mind. I need to go,"

Hermione took hold of her bag without looking at him. As she walked across the room, clouds of powder followed her with every step. The walk to the door took too long, yet eventually she placed her shaky hand around the doorknob, ready to escape and think about what had happened alone. But she froze when she heard his voice speak.

"Miss Granger,"

She wasn't ready for the sensation of his fingers slipping around her wrist. She span around so quickly that she dropped her bag and they both listened to it bang to the floor. There he was, and he was closer than he had ever been before. She looked into his eyes and this time didn't feel the need to look away. She could see herself reflected in his black pupils.

"Miss Granger, did you by any chance want me to notice your unbuttoned shirt?"

Hermione slowly withdrew her arm and felt herself sinking against the wall. She could see his mind working, he was slowly studying her. How transparent had she been? She closed her eyes and felt the darkness surround her. She shouldn't have done this. How could she have been so stupid? If only she could disappear. It felt like a dream. Maybe she could wake up in her bed now..and…

"_Yes_," she said quietly. "I wanted you to see," the words came out before she could stop them. She didn't dare to open her eyes. She listened to the moments of empty silence pass, and finally pulled her lashes away from her cheek. He seemed much closer than before. His dark eyes ran down her face and this time she forced herself to look away. His body was so close…

She took a breath, and after what seemed like a lifetime, he finally spoke.

"Miss Granger, dinner will start soon. Please get changed,"

She watched his eyes look into hers a moment longer, a moment longer than they had ever done before, and she then watched him go. He had left the room before her mind could even begin to register what had just happened. Let alone her heart.

--

Review :)


End file.
